Magician: Magic Hacker
by Reinforced Network
Summary: Bellatrix is captured a year into her escape by the mysterious magical hacker, Smoke. She'll learn of dark secrets held by pureblood men. Two years earlier, the Triwizard happened, & Harry makes his move, to make allies by removing the curse from girls. And with his girl, Luna by his side the war starts before Voldemort's return, in the shadows of the magics hidden codes.
1. Preface

**Disclaimer: **_I do NOT own Harry Potter, as this is fanfiction that seems unlikely from the start, so enjoy. _

**Magician .hack**

**Chapter 1**

**Preface**

Bellatrix Lestrange found herself in an odd predicament: for her at least. It had honestly never happened to her before – while her master was around at least. She had recently been busted out of jail – well a year ago or there about. Everything was going – well if you discounted certain events, or people; it was going great. However, she may have gotten foolish, and had gotten complacent in her superiority. It must have been a year exactly since she escaped, but when you had no time schedule to keep she sort of lost track for most days. She had been running an errand for her master, not that she got that far before _'this'_.

She was skulking down Knockturn as she needed to collect something important for her master when she – well everything went blank and she just woke up, naked, completely, not even a piece of jewellery. Her wrists were bound with sealed chains tying her painfully to the wall of the room, keeping her off her feet; her ankles too were bound in chains, and though the underside of the chains were layered with padded leather they were not comfortable, and they were tight and likely to leave marks.

She didn't know how long she had been captured, but she had to have been hanging taught to the wall for a few days. Her toes barely brushed the cool smooth white floor, and yet she had seen nobody; her capturer wouldn't pay her a visit no matter how much she demanded and mouthed off, trying to get a response. She honestly didn't expect a response from her capturer until they were ready, not because of her demands. She was obviously dealing with someone who could care less about taunts with endless patients that didn't need anything from her urgently.

The room was bland and bright. White lights were coming from everything, even from the floor and around the mirrored wall that was directly opposite. She could see herself reflected somewhat now that her eyes had slowly adjusted to the constant light of the matte white dungeon. That was what she thought of her cell. It was something like she would expect a dungeon to be like, and if not for white and being spotlessly clean, it could have made a nice addition to her home, or maybe even Hogwarts.

She was famished and tired, but the light gave her very little sleep if any. She had already figured out the light itself wasn't keeping her awake, but some sort of spell in the light niggling at her senses, and she felt like she was always being watched. If she wasn't so pissed off, she could have congratulated its creators, maybe even marvelling at the ingenuity of her torture. Her Prison Warden was doing something she was too impatient to try; she didn't think any of her fellow Death Eaters had this kind of ingenuity or patients; it was a shame her Warden seemed to be the enemy.

Her Warden was trying to break her spirit. No information about the person who captured you could be worse than knowing it seemed. Then the Warden had taken her clothes, stripping her of any and all dignity she might have had gained after, or left from before her time in Azkaban. Though, even this dungeon could not hope to compare to that humiliating, dark, cold place where they tortured inmates into insanity for just being near the spectres of soul eating chill: dementors.

However, this was large and airy, bright, and not a small cage like she had, empty of anything save her and the silver chains, but somehow it felt more oppressive. She didn't like this. It was unfamiliar. It was lonely and desolate, as if she was stranded with no hope in the middle of a desert, alone. At least in Azkaban she could relish in the misery of others around her to make her feel better that it wasn't just her suffering, but this time was completely different. There were no dementors to make her remember her worst moments in life, but she didn't need them here. With her mind so clear she thought about so much that her chest sometimes hurt, and in that respect maybe this prison was worse.

She thought back to her mother and father, and remembered disappointing them on many occasions; how angry they had been, but whereas before when under dementors she had screamed in anguish for being such a disappointing child. Here in this cell she wished she had just killed them herself. Why should she have cared about their approval? What had they ever done that was so great by their daughters? She remembered she hadn't been sad at their funerals. She had smiled; she had hated them!

Why did she never remember that under the dementors? She remembered looking at her mother's grave and feeling content! She had been free from the woman! She had wished things had been different! She didn't know what would have been better, if anything, but the way the woman had expected so much, too much from her and her sisters was pathetic! She swore she would never be pathetic like her mother and father and joined the Death Eaters shortly after her death to her aunts' pleasure, but she hated her too!

Bellatrix didn't feel that she needed any member of her family to approve after that. All she needed was the Dark Lord, and she climbed up his approval rating faster than any man. It was a glorious time. The Dark Lord didn't look down on her talents because she was a young woman, but he welcomed her. The Dark Lord had faith in her power, and she took sick pleasure in-lording her superior position over other Death Eaters, male Death Eaters, eventually earning their fear because they would not respect a woman.

But still it was always the same temperature in this cell, which had some benefits over Azkaban. It wasn't too warm, and it wasn't too cool; there wasn't even a slight breeze, and she didn't sweat. But she was hungry now, famished, and her lips were cracked from dehydration. She hadn't eaten much since Azkaban (at least they fed her) because it made her feel sick, but now she could eat a hippogriff or two. She would even drink her own urine like she sometimes had to in prison because they didn't give the prisoners enough water, so she was sure she wasn't the only one to do what had to be done to survive their torture.

"Who are you!?" she roared out into the empty nothing; her voice echoing off the walls for the first time in a while, struggling tiredly at her chains, but they wouldn't budge; she was too weak to struggle for long. She felt exhausted just trying as if the chains stole her strength, and maybe they did. She felt her stomach turn. She felt as if she had been sick over and over but nothing spewed from her stomach and passed her cracked lips.

No answer. That was the usual response to her cries. She felt herself shaking before she shook off the feeling of hopelessness and desperation. She wasn't a helpless little girl anymore. She never cried in Azkaban, and she wouldn't cry here. She refused to cry over anything much less what she had no control over. She hated the feeling more than anything and desperately squished it down to the back of her mind.

She blinked tears back. If her mother ever saw her reacting like that she would have been disowned along with her moron cousin Sirius, and her sister Andromeda, but maybe if she had been she wouldn't have been in the cell; who knew what might have been? She had to shake away those thoughts, but they kept coming, worse than anything dementors could do; she realised she was punishing herself with these thoughts; that was all she had time for: thinking of the past and present.

She kind of missed her sister a bit sometimes. She was always the brains of the three sisters, Andromeda, Bellatrix, and Narcissa, but then Andromeda married that mudblood Tonks. Though, Bellatrix could personally not care one way or the other. It was about pureblood morals and honour. She had tainted the family with impure blood, and that was the way they were raised to be respectable purebloods, so going against the order of things was wrong wasn't it?

How long had it been since her capture? She was sure that whatever was keeping her awake wasn't doing perfectly, making her lose track of everything, even her thoughts, and nightmares were blending into daydreams. She was just too tired that she kept having moments of unconsciousness; not sleep, but passing out meant some less pain on her body, for a few moments before it came back tenfold.

It would have been her first proper Christmas free from that hell, Azkaban, and she was certain she wasn't going back ever again, but what was going to happen to her? She didn't have the slightest clue. And if she were to guess outright she would say that she was going to die soon.

She hadn't been caught by aurors. They were useless, and because of that mindless minister and his greed and fear when denying the return of the Dark Lord for so long they were so far behind. It was in the Dark Lord's favour, but honesty, nobody, or near nobody believing Albus Dumbledore over the bumbling minister? She had thought she had seen everything, but then worse, trying to blame Sirius for breaking her out of jail? Even if he had gone 'dark' he would have left her to rot. The ministry deserved to be conquered by someone with half a brain cell just for that incompetence.

The signs were clear as day, but Sirius faced corruption of the highest level when he received no trail, and he was as good as they got back then, especially coming from a dark family, but that was all they needed; him coming from a dark family condemned him to the ignorant. But then that could have boiled down to Dumbledore scheming, but then she got a trail, and she was a crazy bitch. It was a sham of a trail but she was not only unrepentant but readily admitted her crimes with glee dripping from her voice when she should have probably stitched up some Death Eaters she didn't like so she could continue the search for the Dark Lord. Though, that bothered her when a Death Eater got off for handing over another when they should have gone down too.

She couldn't have been captured by the Order of the Phoenix, and though they were looking for her all this time knowing or believing the Dark Lord had returned from the start they weren't any better than the aurors. They followed the lead of an old crackpot that pretty much ruled over idiots without them realising. It was actually pitiful how easily the old man controlled so many fools, and let them die so that he could give murdering psychos a second chance just because they were purebloods: ridiculous! They didn't even seem to realise that the old man let their people run to death so readily while not condoning the deaths of Death Eaters.

The Order of the Phoenix likely wouldn't have kept her, and just handed her over to the ministry for her to escape again a few days later; not that they would have attacked her in the back like a smart person; they would have been foolish enough to confront her head on, and she would have defeated them, and they would have died slow and painful deaths for their stupidity because the Order were made up of whiny idiots.

Even if the Order did capture her they wouldn't have her in such a clean holding cell anyway, or the funding to build anything like it, and certainly not the talent or imagination to create all of the charms and wards she knew were making sure she could never get out, and worse, making sure she was as uncomfortable as possible.

The Order wouldn't have chained her to a wall like she was because 'Dumbledore' was 'better' than torture, until he was throwing people in Azkaban. Then finally they wouldn't have taken her clothes from her and left her looking so undignified, and she could secretly admit she was fairly discomforted, and maybe feeling some fear and apprehension, but she would persevere for her master.

Looking straight forward she could see her reflection in the mirror; Azkaban hadn't done anything for her complexion. She was paler than she ever was, but her breasts were still full, and her body slim and she didn't know why her captor had removed her pubic hairs. She had cold blue eyes that seemed unable to stay open for long, and long dark brown crinkled hair over her shoulders.

She had lost some weight from where she hung and from her stay in Azkaban, even though she had taken so long to realise that some kind of rune was making sure a bathroom wasn't needed. At least that was something good about her Warden. That was probably the worst part of Azkaban, other than dementors, doing her 'business' in a hole in the ground that always overflowed during bad weather, which was most of the time as the dementors always brought with them icy storms while in large swarms.

"Please!" she whispered weakly as she came to terms that finally she was going to die. Her Warden had sentenced her to die of hunger, uncomfortable, and deprived of any sleep with spots in her eyes from the bright lights. "Why don't you just kill me already!" she demanded with a wicked grin on her face. "What are you: a coward? Come on, place your hands around my fucking throat and squeeze; enjoy my struggles as you squish the life out of my body!" she demanded with an odd feeling in her stomach she had never felt before as she said those words, thinking about the actions behind them.

Bellatrix hadn't expected an answer, so she was shocked as she heard a nose to her left. There was no exit or entrance but a man stood in a strange outfit with a hood over his head, covering his face in shadow. He stood out vastly in the white room. His long coat flayed out at the bottom, uncontrolled. His whole coat including hood was like black smoke that the light of the room avoided, least it be absorbed into nothingness.

His whole outfit was black smoke, hiding him, as he walked around to stand in front of her before it shimmered and he flickered away, not even leaving a shadow before he reappeared, directly in front of her, his face a centre metre from hers, and she could feel his cool breath on her lips. Then his clothes shimmered from top to bottom with black light and the smoke of the clothes reformed solid.

The Wardens coat was black leather and hung to his ankles. It was open with two buckles over his chest and one over his waist. He wore some kind of black top underneath, moulded to his muscular frame, and black combat trousers, and black half-trainer-half-boots. She could see his face and some black hair under his hood. He wore stylish ski-shades curving at angles, black framed, hiding his eyes behind a dark mirrored tint that showed her reflection while he was smirking.

He reached out his bare right hand and slid it up her small empty stomach while she held still glaring at him. His hand slid up, curving over her left breast and pinching her nipple, tweaking it slightly, which surprised her as she gasped when it felt odd, but not in a painful way, but it might as well have been. She didn't understand what that unfamiliar feeling was when he suddenly let her go. He turned from her, stepping away and watching her in the mirrored wall as he gave off no reflection, which concerned her more than anything.

"Odd isn't it?" he asked, and she noticed the modulation to his voice, so she couldn't tell who he was, or recognise him if she ever escaped, even though that was highly improbable. "The trouble men would go through to control the fairer sex!"

"Who are you? What are you talking about?" she demanded croakily, incensed by his babble.

However, he didn't turn to face her; she withed she could see his reflection as that would have made her feel more comforted. "My dear, Bella!" he began by mocking her when he said her name in a mock child-like manner. "Father passes it down to son, but first the Hogwarts wards around the girls dorms begin the cycle," he said chuckling while he shook his head, amused as he turned to face her, moving closer he stroked up her right arm with his left before stopping at her pulse point.

"There are many pureblood women on the 'light' side who know and because of benevolent men like Dumbledore think it is only right, but most like you, never realise. Though, this," he said, stroking his fingers and thumb over her wrist just below her shackle. "Quite clever of me," he said matter-of-factually, maybe even gloatingly. "I created a seal within your blood to nullify and destroy the charm, and its effects if it ever comes near you again; it makes sure it doesn't work on you any longer."

"W-what charm?" she asked quietly and confused as her throat was sore. "What have you done to me?"

He smiled, "such a bright woman, but so obedient to the status quo. There is a charm that can even be implanted in wards that – how should I put this...?" he asked himself whimsically while she watched him, half curious as he stroked his right hand within her thighs, which made her squirm, and he chose to only look at the rune on her wrist while stroking it with his left thumb. "I guess straight to the point is best. It stops you from having any sexual aspirations, makes you think that you're just for breeding stock, and that sex only gratifies men. It makes sure you don't leave to find gratification elsewhere, especially not the muggle world, or a better wizard, maybe one not pure of blood.

"It keeps their women obedient like pitiful animals, and it effects all girls at school; how very sad," he said looking downcast as his hand trailed up over her area, up her tummy and to rest on her breast, squeezing it. She started feeling that odd thing in the pit of her stomach again, and the more he massaged her tender flesh, letting his fingers brush her hard and surprisingly sensitive nipple the more she felt – nice.

"I bet many women would fall free from the spell though," he continued conversationally, "marrying muggle-born men who never knew about it, and would never agree with it. Or maybe some would break free because the man got lazy and forget to apply it. Or they couldn't afford to add it to the home wards because the charm is unstable and wears off. The women likely think it was natural, having no proper sex education to prove to the contra.

"I have discovered that occasionally Hogwarts isn't the safe place you would think, being a school," he continued whimsically. "Voldemort figured it out. Voldemort might not have become the 'man' he was today if he didn't! But then I wonder how my scans no matter how many we take say you have never 'bred', curious, no, considering you have a husband who would want an heir?"

"He never worked!" she surprisingly answered snidely. "Both he and his brother tried to have me, but they're both broken rejects!" she laughed croakily.

"The cost of so much inbreeding!" her Warden commented laughing. "You need to make a little diversity; it strengthens the magical blood! I bet even your master understands this. Maybe your master just doesn't care, and uses fools like them as a means to an end?"

She glared at him with a sneer, "so, you expect me to tell you my masters' secrets!?" she demanded hatefully, but she hadn't waited for a reply as she gave him her answer, "do what you want with me because I'm not talking!" she spat out.

"Nope, don't really need you to tell me anything," he replied, shrugging, "know most of Voldemort's secrets already," he answered shaking his head. "In fact, I would bet I know more than you-!" he removed his hand from her chest a moment later and frowned. "Sorry, but I guess we'll have to continue this later, Bella. I believe I have a visitor. How nice for your master to visit me personally. I so do look forward to our meetings; your master does have quite the amusing side sometimes."

"He's come to get me back, Smoke!" she roared out as a door to the side slid open into darkness even though she could never tell that it was there before. He walked towards the door ignoring her. "That is who you are, isn't it? Smoke: the hunter within the shadows: The Vigilante! No known motive! No known allegiance or allies, but maybe just a man who kills those in his way, so why keep me like this?"

He didn't answer as his coat burst to life with his clothes, streaming into a white coat with the same black underneath. The door slid shut after him, leaving her alone once more; this time with a strange and foreign wetness trailing down her upper thighs.


	2. The Champion Hacker

**Disclaimer: **_I do NOT own Harry Potter!_

**Smoke: Magic Hacker**

**Chapter 2**

**The Champion Hacker**

It hadn't been a bad few months for Harry Potter. He sat back at the Gryffindor table relatively content it had been a pretty good beginning to his 4th year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He tried not to let this Halloween get him down. It seemed like very few people remembered or cared that it was the anniversary of his parents' deaths. They praised him when it suited them, hated him when they accused him of something without proof, and then conveniently forgot that he hated his fame, and more so because it was in the darkness of his parents murder that the morons praised him, reminding him all the time. Then they carried ion, trying to make him out to be an attention seeker, for something he couldn't even remember. If he wanted attention, they would know it because it would be under his own brilliance.

Other than those depressing thoughts, the only thing he could really say he disliked was that his best girlfriend Luna Lovegood was at her own table. It was a nightmare how bitchy other houses got when someone not of that house sat at their table, even him, and he was supposed to be their saviour and sometimes hero if he cared to be, and they weren't in their fair-weather hate modes. He would expect that sort of thing from Gryffindors and Slytherins as most of them could be complete douches, but not Hufflepuffs, or Luna's house, Ravenclaw.

The magical people (most of them) were too stupid and ignorant for their own good, and always following the lead of fools like Dumbledore, so if he said to dislike a certain type of person they tended to believe that person was evil whether true or not. They never seemed to follow anyone who was open, even Voldemort hid tons of crap from his Death Eaters. If Harry was going to be a leader he was going to have to be like that too with the mindless masses, but he knew that with those close to him, the truth would be the answer to loyalty and strength.

The mindless masses would hate the truth, and side with Dumbledore and Voldemort in their hate, screaming louder and louder, but force it on them out of nowhere and they could do nothing but accept, and accept they would when they saw the way their world could be like if only they stopped listening to ignorant old men and looked for themselves.

Harry's Aunt Petunia had told him that the magical people hadn't a light bulb between them, but he had been certain she was exaggerating. But it turned out she didn't know the half of it, and was off the mark by a hefty margin. It was unreal how ignorant, arrogant, and quite honestly the worst thing about them was their lack of common sense and imagination, and that last part was coming from mythical beings. He could be arrogant at times, but they took the piss, and weren't awesome like him. He hoped his mother had never succumbed to the stupidity like many if not all muggle-born witches and wizards did, but maybe she did if she listened to the crazy old headmaster the way nearly everyone else seemed to.

Thankfully his muggle family had seen to it that they had gotten him the best tutors they could afford, and got him training in many different disciplines, from hand to hand to the sciences. Though, he had a sneaking suspicion that that was just to get back at the magical world and the Headmaster Dumbledore for dumping Harry on their doorstep in the middle of the night like he did. The old man had left a letter that was damning him if you read between the lines of 'look after this poor child', it read things like 'he just needs to survive' and 'we won't be paying attention as long as he survives do as you see fit to raise him proper', which was what the old man expected.

However, the old man didn't quite get what he expected. Harry wasn't a skinny runt, barely looked after with below average intellect, so Dumbledore could come swooping in the hero to make him into another obedient sucker. Instead, what he got was a lean muscular boy talented in the art of kicking arse, a wit so sharp that it cut, and was highly opinionated, along with being able to play several instruments, draw, and with an incredible knack for the sciences, and technology, along with above genius level intellect. It was kind of sad how primitive the magical people had let themselves get when they had such potential.

Harry smirked at the thought as his silver framed glassed scanned out over the darkness lit only by a few candles and the blue flames of a goblet that sat on a plinth in front of the stereotypical wizard headmaster. Harry was looking out of the lenses of his glasses with his emerald green eyes. His raven black hair was kept in neat disarray, and out of all of the Gryffindors he was the only one wearing muggle clothes to the Choosing Ceremony for the Champions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He was wearing light beige combat trousers (as you could never have too many pockets) with a brown belt with brown walking boots, and a white shirt that was only done up with 2 buttons, in the centre with the cuffs open since they always kept the Great Hall so hot, and everyone else wore robes, but at least the French schools robes were thin silk.

He noticed the odd looks he received from Hogwarts girls but pretended he didn't while lavishing in the attention from the cuties even though most of them wouldn't have a chance with him. First it was mostly subconscious on their part and he was sure that would be thinking 'father' rather than lover because of certain curses that he didn't approve of. He didn't much approve of enslaving house elves so this rubbed him the wrong way even further, and any man having to be so cruel to any woman to keep her was pathetic.

Then if they weren't cursed they would have to get through Luna first, and though small; she knew some wonderful methods for getting rid of undesirable wastes of time. He was hers as far as she was concerned, and he liked it like that. It was easy to have a cute girlfriend who was fun and intelligent to hang out with rather than have to deal with girls all the time trying to get his attention and having to stamp every and anyone he 'dated', and it was better because Harry and Luna had been best friends since they met her first year.

They had met when Harry had protected her from a few older boys from Ravenclaw bullying her because she was unusual, and not to mention smarter than them, and they didn't like that. However, Harry was smarter than her in many ways, which made his house choice odd as Gryffindors were brave (in other words – stupid – foolish – dangers to themselves and others), not smart.

The Sorting Hat had said Harry would have done well in Slytherin House, and he could have cared less, and agreed, as he knew how to defend himself from wanabee minions. So something was messed up as the hat put him in Gryffindor anyway, which was a shame as he had to put up with so many idiots he tried to avoid. It wasn't like all of the Gryffindor's were idiots, but just most of them, and even the smart ones, Granger at the top of that list, followed rather than thinking for themselves because they were bookworms above self-thinkers.

It was mind bending how some of them didn't understand the words _'get lost'_ until they were shoved to the floor in frustration and annoyance, and one boy still didn't get it. He had stopped using any kind of physical force quickly as that had seen consequences of snitches and a head of house who wouldn't listen to reason, (she still didn't listen), and he created better methods that didn't get him into trouble, so made sure to use some of that _'Slytherin'_ cunning instead as they seemed to have short memories and wouldn't leave him alone.

Harry didn't like bullies so he was only too eager to stick up for the small blonde, and sent the boys packing with metaphorical tails between their legs. Harry had been at Hogwarts for a year already and hadn't made any friends, no matter that some crazy bullying ginger boy from his house kept trying to force his 'friendship' on him, and he couldn't use violence or get detentions even though it would be justified, and telling on him, she expected him to just go and 'play' nice, as if; he didn't like bullies, so didn't want to know.

Then Harry had to deal with that weirdly ignorant Granger girl all the time. She didn't like being second best to another Gryffindor, let alone that he didn't try very hard, and if she ever beat him in class he didn't actually care because he had better things to do than getting good grades, (his genius was beyond any magical qualifications or stupid magical world job, and he had money, plenty of it), or believing crap written in books by idiots who didn't get the concept of experimentation. It was all good for Harry sometimes as some of his private projects translated into areas of classes, and if he did fall short it was because he had disproven the teachers methods and they wouldn't listen because they didn't understand, or like being wrong to a child.

Then Hermione Granger would look smug with her nose held high, but his shrug and non-caring attitude got to her, and the next lesson would see her lose just because Harry didn't like to let her stay smug forever. Then he didn't know how a smart muggle-born girl could be that ignorant. He was certain if he gave her the nullifying stamp that he made with Luna's help as his cute test bunny, she would run to Dumbledore thinking he would fix the wards if she even realised the truth: as if! He would probably go around wiping memories and try to find a way around Harry's seal. Hermione could have been a friend if she wasn't such a big headed book loving idiot who chooses not to look beyond the 'wonder'.

Though, Harry had managed to find a few different ways to stop memory modification, and the hardest was the easiest for both Harry and Luna, which was the art of occlumency, which was certainly needed when Snape the Bastard and Dumbledore went around raping children's memories at their convenience. Harry found the talent quite easy with all of the meditation from his 'kung fu' and combat classes and everything. With shields around the mind, mind magic wouldn't work, which meant no memory modification. They would just have to fake it, as they faked many memories all the time to keep the memory thieves ignorant of the danger they could pose to the pureblood world in the immediate future.

Harry could barely believe it when Luna had told him about the 'anti-libido' curse that girls were forced to suffer, and near forced him to find a way around it as she recognised his intellect as dangerous to the pureblood culture of the magical world, and loved that about him. He could have torn down the wards but that would have likely gone badly, and not had any effect as the curse would have ran long enough to fix them, and hunt for the culprit(s). So they had to bide their time, and at least when Harry and Luna got to _'that'_ stage in their relationship he would be able to pleasure her as much as her him.

But shaking that off, he was certain that his nice quiet year full of researching how awesome he could be was going to be ruined; he would even bet 1,000 galleons on it, which coincidently was the prize money amount for the tournament winner. The tournament practically screamed out: 'hey Harry I'm going to screw up your year and Dumbledore is going to help me, yay won't that be fun?' Though, he was sure it could be fun looking at all of the losers with the trophy in his hands having won to rub it in their pathetic faces.

His glasses zeroed in, with a small green pentagram like the targeting lock on thing on the screen of a fighter plane, targeting the cup, it flickered-red as it scanned with tiny letters in the lock-on. Blue writing spread along his vision telling him of a confoundus charm on the cup. That could only mean that whoever was after him this year wanted him in the tournament, so it was unlikely that it would be an attempt on his life because that was too overly complicated to be a sure fire murder plot, though with wizards that wasn't a certainty as they seemed to enjoy huge overly complicated evil schemes.

The three official champions had just been called, and went into the Great Halls antechamber. His glasses scanned each one, nearly stripping them off their clothes as he scanned them through to the muscle and bone with three different target circles, zooming in and around with tiny blue dots marking their face's and finer points, detailing the girl more than the boys, and she had a nice rack he noted first.

However, her chest area aside, Harry was surprising how none of them were in very good physical condition. The half veela, Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons School was the fittest, but that was likely because of her veela blood, but she could be a lot stronger with some work. But other than that, Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts, Hufflepuff House, and Victor Krum of Durmstrang Academy weren't all that magically powerful either, so maybe they had some other talents.

The scan bough up their records one after the other, but nothing suggested anything special. Fleur had a younger sister and was in part veela, and though it said half veela, veela only came in female, so he corrected that to state she was veela as any boys they had were human. His records showed that she was the top viable candidate from her school as her practical magic weaving was slightly above the next best choice.

Cedric was one of the popular crowd (because he was supposedly good looking and smart), and according to Harry's records of every student at Hogwarts there were several more viable candidates, himself included. If only he was allowed to place his name in the goblet, the cup might have actually chosen him if the cup hacked through the statistics using magic in any way similar to Harry. He felt that the goblet was likely one of the very few pieces of magic that could impress him.

Last was Victor Krum. He was the star seeker for the Bulgarian Quidditch team, and played for a team that roughly translated as Mountain Seekers. He also had an older sister. She was only a five years older at twenty-two and treated him like a child. Their parents were dead, and she had looked after him and his younger siblings for the past three years, supporting his career in quidditch. The Krum family had been wealthy enough that his older sister could be given legal guardianship.

His younger siblings were twins-a boy and a girl. There were no pictures of them in any of the magazines where Harry got a lot of useful information for his growing network, but they were both two years below him and went to Durmstrang.

Victor was the most likely candidate for champion of his school, which wasn't surprising when Harry realised that the other students seemed to have only been decoration. It became obvious that their head teacher planned for Victor to compete. Since he was the quidditch star and all of that, it was likely that his people expected him to be champion, so the 'ex' Death Eater head teacher needed to make sure Victor became champion to save face, so left anyone the goblet might have chosen instead, back at the school, and it was a certainty that the other schools (minus Hogwarts) would all cheat, so that gave Victor some even footing.

Harry would certainly cheat. If everyone else was cheating, then cheating had to be a part of the game. Unofficially cheating was all a part of the tradition of the tournament. Let the better cheater win. However, with fools like Dumbledore and McGonagall running Hogwarts cheating in Cedric's favour wasn't likely going to happen unless he cheated himself, which seemed highly unlikely as his records were clear as day 'honourable', unless he was that good of an actor, which he wasn't.

Harry's scan turned from them automatically within a few moments, once they were all gone, into the antechamber of the Great Hall, and Harry wondered how he was going to react to what was about to happen since he had known about it before hand, and the conspiracy against him. He also knew the fair-weathers were going to be up in arms, and not think anything through for themselves, and let their anger and jealousy rule them as they can't show that towards the Hogwarts champion, but he couldn't care as they were losers because of that.

The Goblet of Fire lit up crimson once more, and spat out the last name, "Harry Potter!" the old headmaster called out automatically once he caught the small piece of parchment the cup spat out. The old headmaster hadn't looked surprised to see it at first as hundreds of minuscule blue target nodes scanned every minute twitch of his face as if they were actually on his face feeding Harry readings. After Dumbledore read the name he did a very good job of looking surprised, but not good enough for his glasses to not see slight traces of amusement.

"Harry Potter!" the old man called again while everyone looked to Harry in shock or anger, hate and disgust while he thought of how he should react.

It was strange, especially considering many of the under seventeens not allowed to enter themselves in the tournament had tried to outsmart Dumbledore's age line and failed. It was pitiful that anyone would look at him like that for supposedly being smart enough to trick the age line just because they didn't have the imagination to do it themselves. He knew how to get around it and he wouldn't have needed tricks for that, which made him smarter by far as it was amusingly simple how nobody thought of the simple when it came to things that seemed complicated, and in need of 'tricking'.

"Please, join the others, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said in a disappointed voice while Harry stood with a sigh as he didn't need his glasses to hear the slight twinges of enjoyment in the old man's voice. The old man thought he was smart, but a scheme willingly walked into was hijacked from the start and no longer your scheme. Harry wished he could gloat to the old man, but all in due time.

The green eyed boy paused for a moment as he made a decision that should amuse Luna and him as a grin stretched his lips. He figured that he might as well get some digs in just to make a point. If he couldn't gloat, then he should enjoy making fun of everyone, and making them all look as stupid as they were anyway.

"Okay, but you shouldn't look so disappointed Professor, or are you just embarrassed that a fourteen year old outsmarted you whereas older students couldn't?" he asked, on a roll.

Harry wasn't easily embarrassed and his lessons in the muggle world covered public speaking as his uncle, knowing he would be famous thought it would help put people in their place, so he continued without thinking about all of the wide-eyes on him.

"You were awfully amused when other underage students lost to your age line," he said, smirking. "But me...? While they were off trying to age themselves I was learning how to remove the age line and put it back after me! It was just convenient that the likes of Fred and George Weasley and many others showed me what the effects of crossing your line would be so I could put those effects back, and nobody was the wiser!"

Harry chuckled while everyone looked so flabbergasted, especially Dumbledore as he was blushing. The Weasley twins however, gave Harry a salute of respect each as he walked passed them, and straight into the antechamber with the other three.

Cedric was an okay looking boy but Harry couldn't see why so many girls wanted him to marry them some day or whatever. Did they like bushy eyebrows that much? Krum was ugly in Harry's opinion, but his files showed Krum's older sister, and she was quite the good looking girl, odd that. He had heard girls and boys say so during the Quidditch World Cup too when he went with Luna. He was brutish, and if not for his fame as a Quidditch Star for the Bulgarian team wouldn't get anywhere with any pretty girls. It was just lucky it seemed only Hogwarts was cursing girls as far as he could tell.

Fleur Delacour was smoking hot, and had a nice rack. He had to stop himself from looking through her clothes, just to take a peak, (but he didn't think she quite matched up to Luna, and she encouraged him to use his x-ray functions on her as she found it fun-naughty-fun). She had long blonde hair tied back to her shoulder blades, wearing a silk blue and white uniform from her school. Her eyes were crystal blue and her pale face was just the sort you could get lost staring at while her body was slim, and her breast while not small were not too large; they suited her and were firm. He could feel her allure, but ignored it unlike the other two who could not stop staring at her like lechers.

"Who are you?" the blonde seventeen year old girl demanded in her cool French accent rather snootily as if he was beneath her notice, which got the notice of the other two. Harry wondered whether he could get her to bow before him if he could find a way to hack into her natural ability and turn it off, or control it.

He had heard that men had gotten away with raping veela, blaming their power, which was why they tended to stay in groups, or stay out of certain ministries. He hated weak minded fools who would try to weasel out of punishment by saying they were under another's control. Death Eaters had been the same, getting away with murder, and Harry wouldn't stand for that and would put them down without the Ministry getting in the way.

Harry could tell that she was using translation magic because he was too, and hearing two different languages from her was a little odd because their translators were vastly different as Harry made his himself, and it was integrated into the watch on his left wrist, which was silver on a thick brown leather strap with so many functions and protections if he were to sell it, it would be in the hundreds of thousands.

Harry was just grinning, keeping up the act that he outsmarted Dumbledore, which he did. He could have done what he said he did if he wanted to compete, but then he would have added his name under Hogwarts. He didn't like the thought of cheating out another student like he _'was'_ because Cedric in his books was the Hogwarts Champion, and Harry, some other school he would have to _'name'_ just to make a point that Hogwarts cheers for Cedric even if, or when he loses to Harry.

Harry didn't have time to answer as the three school heads, Dumbledore from Hogwarts, Karkaroff from Durmstrang, and Maxime from Beauxbatons entered the chamber. They were followed by the head of Gryffindor: the stern Professor McGonagall with the head of Magical Sports and Games; that weird Barty Crouch ministry employee, the greasy potions _'teacher'_ Snape, and the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher with the perverted eye.

Harry had been having fun as he had already put a scrambler on, and placing it in certain locations in the castle, entwined within warded areas (taking the idea from a certain undesirable charm in certain wards) so kids and anyone walked through it spreading the charm throughout the school just mainly for Harry's amusement but to keep kids dignity, especially his and Luna's. He knew how to disrupt the old 'aurors' eye mainly because his glasses could see through things too, though likely more advanced, as he improved his glasses so the scramblers didn't affect them, and he could control his x-rays and didn't use them in that fashion unless necessary as it could also act like a muggle x-ray which was good enough most of the time when looking for hidden items, or people.

"Harry Potter!" McGonagall jumped in before anyone else could, and marched up to be in his face. "How dare you think you can circumvent Professor Dumbledore's age line?!" she demanded, appalled. "You'll be serving detention for a very long time for this!" she reprimanded heatedly.

"Sorry Professor!" he replied, amused as he knew he had the upper hand. "I don't think so – well, not without giving every single person who tried to circumvent the old geezers ward detentions too, or do I have to employ a lawyer to see whether they agree with you punishing me alone? You're only angry because I won where older and more advanced," he laughed there, mocking the word, "students' had failed so miserably."

"Professor McGonagall!" Dumbledore interrupted before she went off on a rant. "Harry is – though unfortunate it may be – correct; we cannot punish him without everyone else just because he chose to be more imaginative. However, Mr. Potter how did you make sure your name was chosen; I would have thought if you would enter your name that you would have entered it under Hogwarts."

"Confounded the goblet to believe that four schools competed!" he answered, shrugging as his eyes skipped over Alistor Moody, the Defence Teacher, and he wisely chose not to speak as he knew Harry was on to him, and he wasn't stupid enough to think he was just a stupid, ignorant child. He could see the cunning in Harry's eyes, so went with it to see what would happen. "But anyway, what does it matter?" he asked whimsically. "Even if I denied doing anything at all, no one would believe me, well mostly no one. They all think I enjoy being praised for Voldemort's," most flinched, "defeat, and my families murder, and that I enjoy all of the moronic attention, so you know what, I don't care what they think because I'm in this tournament now and I'm going to win!"

"Dumbledore...!" Maxime complained. "You surely are not going to let him compete; he is but a big mouthed little boy!"

"Unfortunately there is nothing we can do!" he replied with a sigh, and lying his arse off more than Snape does when someone makes a complaint against him bullying students. "He has to compete, and if we tried to stop him; we would be in breach of contract and suffer rather than him."

The woman stormed out after that with Fleur jogging to keep up with the huge woman's strides while Karkaroff glared at Dumbledore. "This is an outrage!" he declared.

"Indeed!" Snape finally butted in. "Though I doubt very much the boy has the intellect to perform such magic let alone discover where to find it!"

"Whatever Snape, you ignoramus...!" Harry said with a nonchalant shrug before casually walking passed them all and out of the antechamber just for show; who cared what he or any of them thought? They were morons, and incompetent, falling right into Dumbledore's hands, along with the escaped Death Eater's, but he would have to wait because it was better to get information off from observation before going right in and kicking his arse.

Harry found himself walking through Great Hall a few moments later, and out into the Entrance Hall where a cute blonde girl with dreamy blue eyes and slender body stood waiting for him wearing black and blue Ravenclaw robes while talking to a pair of out of place goblins about something odd he was sure by their expressions. They actually almost looked pleased to see him as Luna stopped talking to beam lovingly at her man.

The goblins glared at Harry after a moment of blessed silence before forcing a huge sack of gold into his hands and looking very displeased. "You won the bet fair and square. One hundred thousand galleons!" one said glaring at him as if it was his fault they were stupid enough to accept the bet in the first place.

Harry chuckled as the bag was feather light or he might not be able to lift it with all his winnings. "Here, one hundred thousand on me to win the tournament!" he replied handing the gold back, smirking while they got greedy grins spreading across their lips as they hoped they could keep it that time.

"Deal!" they agreed. "Five to one odds on you to win!" they both said together shaking his hand each with swirls of purple light sealing the bet, to keep both sides honest.

"Well, pleasure doing business with you fine gentlemen!" Harry said smugly while taking the blonde girls eager hand. "So, Luna, want to find somewhere alone where we can, find something fun to do?" he asked with a grin while she hugged his left arm to her chest and dragged him off with a wide grin.

Meanwhile by the Entrance Hall doors Fleur Delacour had returned with the intention of asking Harry Potter up front the truth. He didn't seem to be the type of person who gave a darn about fame or glory if her heightened senses were anything to go on. It would have been a disconcerting conversation with both of their incompatible translators working roughly together, but it wasn't too difficult to ignore the echo of English and French together; she was actually impressed that anyone at Hogwarts would wear a translator.

However, it was also the way he spoke about his predicament. It sounded like the school believed what they wanted to, and that he just chose to make life easier and take the credit anyway. It held many merits as morons who believed he did nothing, but hated him because of blood prejudice couldn't torment him by accusing him if he already admitted to it, although they likely would, it would prove they were jealous fools.

Though, thinking on it she was certain his method for getting around the age line was floorless if he could perform the magic. It was actually quite the clever idea. While everyone else thought of tricking the ward, Harry Potter thought of just outright taking it down. However, seeing that he was betting with goblins made her doubt that he was innocent for a moment until she approached them, and they turned to her.

"What was that first bet Harry Potter made with you?" she demanded, surprising them.

The first goblin laughed and saw no harm in telling her, "bet us one thousand galleons, one hundred to one that he could get into the tournament as a fourth school without doing anything to try!"

"B-but he admitted it!" she replied, confused as goblins wouldn't be stupid with gold or treasures, ever.

"Yeah, so," the second goblin added. "Made a bet with us by magic – it makes sure both sides keep to the debt and have the money to pay out – magic would have known, and we would have won – they already made the choice that he did it before he chose to take credit anyway. Clever wizard that one, smarter than any we have ever met. Thinking about it now, we gave him too higher odds, but we might be lucky; you might win!" They laughed as they left her and exited through to the outside.

She sighed as it would have been easier to hate Harry Potter than feel sorry for him, but she felt a bit odd that the goblins felt that he could actually beat three people with three years more experience and education than him. She shook her head as that was just impossible, and those goblins didn't know what they were talking about. Okay, she would believe he was innocent, but there was no way a boy like him could beat her.

She wouldn't be able to stop thinking about him and everything that went on in the antechamber with him, all night.

She realised, Harry Potter didn't trust his teachers, and that placed on her metaphorical detective cap as she had to find out the truth that was Harry Potter and the conspiracy revolving around him.

_**to be continued…**_


End file.
